"harlequinade" poems - Hello Poetry

come to stand center stage white garish paint on thin hand thin black mask for a face he stands in the fading light dusty serene silences surround him with deep words paused on his wooden lips speak now oh devilish masked man in this passion play speak to the fathers plots and treason's folly is his candy trickster lover saint fathers and other clowns pour over the construction blueprints of better living through chemicals while the girl in the passion play sneaks out the window to find her song in the silence of pantomime find her pretty face masked in feathers so lovely she awaits her lover beneath painted moon harlequin and the servant slap with a stick comedy and silently chased by the policeman run amok on the worlds stage come children of all ages see the show silly and sad fun and adventure as harlequin and his lover regale you with the tale tricking father and the clown to sad defeats harlequin, harlequin where for art thou harlequin here you fool slapping the cow on the moon with my stylish stick folly is his candy trickster lover saint

0

Jun 19, 2014

Jun 19, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC

mark-john-junor-1

Harlequinade

come to stand center stage white garish paint on thin hand thin black mask for a face he stands in the fading light dusty serene silences surround him with deep words paused on his wooden lips speak now oh devilish masked man in this passion play speak to the fathers plots and treason's folly is his candy trickster lover saint fathers and other clowns pour over the construction blueprints of better living through chemicals while the girl in the passion play sneaks out the window to find her song in the silence of pantomime find her pretty face masked in feathers so lovely she awaits her lover beneath painted moon harlequin and the servant slap with a stick comedy and silently chased by the policeman run amok on the worlds stage come children of all ages see the show silly and sad fun and adventure as harlequin and his lover regale you with the tale tricking father and the clown to sad defeats harlequin, harlequin where for art thou harlequin here you fool slapping the cow on the moon with my stylish stick folly is his candy trickster lover saint

30

*Count the diamonds, we've enjoyed, as our colours spectrum through light; Glowing, we diffuse into rainbows on silken sheets, shared.*

0

Nov 7, 2012

Nov 7, 2012 at 6:16 AM UTC

ruby-watson

Harlequinade

*Count the diamonds, we've enjoyed, as our colours spectrum through light; Glowing, we diffuse into rainbows on silken sheets, shared.*

4

her hand will be moonlight by him: quietly have we become beautiful sound? movement of dancers and fangs of music— birds stirring elsewhere, abandoning trees, you and trilling waywardly across sound, me all is disquiet in days your lips have sung honeyed softness i could hear it like a flower whose petals are blue deepening in silence. her smile will be harlequinade by him and an adagio of scherzo by her will make feet trample the accident of water: pond-strove of love's bend asks have we become rivers leaping in temporal splendors as when it will never give sleep its ****** whiteness again i sing through morning's trek and we, deeper then rain-washed stone, will be all but moon and dark, oh, you, me — unclosed without protest pressed against the wall of love's domain.

0

Nov 27, 2015

Nov 27, 2015 at 5:11 AM UTC

windsor-i-guadalupe-jr

Song

her hand will be moonlight by him: quietly have we become beautiful sound? movement of dancers and fangs of music— birds stirring elsewhere, abandoning trees, you and trilling waywardly across sound, me all is disquiet in days your lips have sung honeyed softness i could hear it like a flower whose petals are blue deepening in silence. her smile will be harlequinade by him and an adagio of scherzo by her will make feet trample the accident of water: pond-strove of love's bend asks have we become rivers leaping in temporal splendors as when it will never give sleep its ****** whiteness again i sing through morning's trek and we, deeper then rain-washed stone, will be all but moon and dark, oh, you, me — unclosed without protest pressed against the wall of love's domain.

28

heady fragrance of drizzle returns lonely through the horizon's limpid perfidy - we have been deceived by the many days that guillotine. the wind's lasso choking perennial trees big-eyes, love-crumbs, lion-telling eyes roar love altogether a dissonant song of hurtling; kisses are aerials in the starry void and in your eyes are lengthening spiral staircases where my glance has grown feet traipsing deeper into some mystic invitation, a night-displacing fire in the harlequinade. the croon of some iron silence cloaked in the viridian garment of trees, the inexhaustible flambeau of a flower's gamble, or red Christ burning in the pellucid waterfall. out there, love, amid fragments, is a church with slender truth-bells and my, take my hand and let us dash through the dark!

0

Sep 14, 2015

Sep 14, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC

windsor-i-guadalupe-jr

Let Us Dash Through

heady fragrance of drizzle returns lonely through the horizon's limpid perfidy - we have been deceived by the many days that guillotine. the wind's lasso choking perennial trees big-eyes, love-crumbs, lion-telling eyes roar love altogether a dissonant song of hurtling; kisses are aerials in the starry void and in your eyes are lengthening spiral staircases where my glance has grown feet traipsing deeper into some mystic invitation, a night-displacing fire in the harlequinade. the croon of some iron silence cloaked in the viridian garment of trees, the inexhaustible flambeau of a flower's gamble, or red Christ burning in the pellucid waterfall. out there, love, amid fragments, is a church with slender truth-bells and my, take my hand and let us dash through the dark!

27